A Clever Man
by broncomap
Summary: A man comes to town and has plans for Kitty.
1. Chapter 1

"Come on Red, kiss me." With a gleeful, toothless grin, the slobbering drunk grabbed Kitty wrists and puckered his thick lips. Drool trickled down the side of his mouth. Kitty struggled to get loose, "Leave me alone." She pulled from his grip and stepped back, eyes ablaze, "And if you don't leave me alone, I'll have you thrown out of here."

"Ya wouldn't do that princess." He grabbed her arms and yanked her against his protruding belly, "Come on, plant a big fat kiss on my handsome lips." He leaned in. She turned her face in disgust, he laughed and gripped harder. "Come on Red, you know you wanna kiss me." She twisted, struggling to make enough space to knee him in the crotch. From the corner of her eye she saw a man in a three-piece suit approach. He tapped the drunk on the shoulder,

"Excuse me, that's no way to treat a lady."

"Stay outta this and ya won't get hurt."

"Hurt? By the likes of you? You don't seem like much of a man."

The drunk froze; his eyes narrowed. Forgetting Kitty for a second, he let go of her and turned to face annoying newcomer. "I'll show you who's a man, you dandy."

"The way to prove you're a man is to apologize to the lady."

"What ya talking about?" He looked the slender man up and down and grinned. "Better watch who ya talking to, ya don't look so tough."

The gentleman looked directly into the drunk's bleary eyes. "Apologize to the lady. It's what a real man would do." He slowly backed up while speaking.

The drunk clenched his fists. "I'll teach you who's a man." He suddenly remembered Kitty and looked over his shoulder. "Red, wait there, I'll be back for my kiss."

The gentleman continued slowly walking backwards. "You're not much of a man at all. Anyone can see that."

"Grr - I'm gonna knock your lights out." Swaying slightly the drunk shook his large, hairy fist in the air.

Still slowly backing up, the gentleman snatched a beer from a startled cowboy whispering apologetically. "Don't worry I'll replace it." He loudly addressed the drunk. "Look at you standing there growling. You're a joke."

The drunk turned purple. "Grr, I'll…", he shifted his bulk and lifted a foot to lunge forward. With perfect timing, the gentlemen extended his arm and upended the beer mug. The drunk lunged right into the puddle of beer. His foot slipped and he fell backwards. His head hit the floor with a thud and he blinked at the ceiling seeing stars. Kitty walked over, crossed her arms and looked down at the semi conscious drunk. "Could a couple of you men, help him out of here? I doubt he'll remember a thing in the morning."

Two men dragged the drunk to his feet, and Kitty walked towards the well-dressed stranger, quickly sizing him up - fairly tall, slender, expensive suit, mid 30's, and well groomed in a way that said he knew he was good looking. She smiled up at him, "Well that was an interesting move. Thanks for your help. I'm Kitty Russell."

"Ah the owner of this fine establishment." He smiled, "My name's George Parker, it's my pleasure."

"Mr. Parker, I'd like to buy you a drink."

"I'd appreciate that. Particularly if you'd join me."

"Happy to." She looked over at the bar. "Sam, please bring us a couple of beers."

Parker pointed to a cowboy sitting at a table, "And please bring him one too, on my tab. I confiscated his to show how alcohol could be the cause of a man's downfall."

Kitty laughed and led Parker to a small table. Beers quickly appeared, and Kitty lifted hers, "To you Mr. Parker and your clever move."

"Thank you. I admit, cleverness has always been my calling card. As a lawyer, I've found it quite a useful tool." They clinked glasses and sipped their drinks. "And please call me George."

Kitty smiled, "Well George, what brings you to Dodge City?"

"I'm on my way to San Francisco. I've been engaged by the Great Western Gold Mining Company. I'm to represent them in legal matters on an ongoing basis. It's quite a prestigious position. I'm traveling from Boston. That's where I'm from."

"You're not exactly taking the direct route to San Francisco, coming through Dodge."

Parker laughed, "I wanted to see something of the fabled west before settling in my new job. I've lived in the east my whole life."

"I see. Well, I hope you're enjoying the journey. You know, San Francisco is a place I've always wanted to visit." She shrugged, "Maybe some day."

"Are you from Dodge, Kitty?"

She noted that he used her first name without asking, but didn't mind. "No, I'm originally from New Orleans. I've been here for about 12 years."

"That's a long time, what made you settle here?"

"Well, about a dozen years ago, I was traveling around not knowing where to go or what to do. I didn't have much money, but I was – I don't know – looking for something. I was on a stage that made a quick stop in Dodge to change horses. I was hungry, so I hurried over to the cafe to have breakfast before getting back on the stage. While I was eating, I looked around and noticed – well – let's just say I liked what I saw – I liked it so much that I decided to stay, and I'm glad I did. I've made a life here."

George nodded. "Interesting. Personally, I look at life as a puzzle. We have to decide what pieces we need to make us happy, acquire those pieces and fit them together."

"That is quite a philosophy, George."

They continued talking through a second and third round of beers. George Parker was full of entertaining stories. The hours flew by and he looked around. Sam was wiping tables and setting chairs on top. "I see it's closing time, and I don't want to overstay my welcome. He stood. "Goodnight Kitty. I have time before making way to San Francisco. I'll stop by tomorrow and buy you a drink."

"All right. Good night George."

Matt Dillon

Matt stretched out on his bedroll and tried to rest. He'd been tracking Jeb Mason for more than two days, and a few hours ago it became clear that something had changed; Mason had been joined by another rider. Matt let out a long breath and tried to relax without falling into a deep sleep. Jeb and company could backtrack. His mind drifted to his last night in Dodge. He was in the Long Branch, enjoying a beer with Kitty, when Barney ran in and thrust a telegram into his hands. He read it and grimly shook his head before looking across the table into Kitty's questioning eyes. "Jeb Mason was in the Hays City jail awaiting hanging. He managed to escape and killed the sheriff in the process. I'm going to Hays to try and pick up his trail. I should leave right away."

Kitty's beautiful eyes clouded over, "Sheriff Danny Bates – killed - how terrible. Such a nice man, and he leaves behind a wife and 2 daughters." Kitty pressed her lips together, "Matt, be careful. Jeb Mason is dangerous, please be careful." Her attempt to keep her voice from trembling failed. The air around them grew thick. She forced a smile and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Cowboy, I haven't had a chance to wear that blue, satin negligee you gave me for my birthday. You'd better get home safe so you can see me in it." He squeezed her hand. "See you later."

Now, lying in the dark, Matt smiled at that memory. In a life filled with danger and uncertainty, getting home to Kitty was something to hang on to. Sometimes it was the only thing.

The Long Branch

Kitty closed her accounting books, locked the cashbox in her safe and walked out of her office into the saloon. Chairs were piled on the tables and the floor was swept and mopped. Sam stood behind the bar drying glasses. She smiled, "The place looks great Sam. You go on home. I'll finish those last few glasses."

"All right, Miss Kitty." He took off his apron, "That Mr. Parker is an interesting sort."

"He sure is Sam. I hope he's still here when Matt gets back. I'd like to hear what he makes of him."

Sam smiled, "The Marshal does have an interesting way of sizing people up."

"Yes he does." Kitty's face darkened as she spoke, and Sam read her mind. Anyone who knew her well would have at that moment. Sam stepped out from behind the bar. "Miss Kitty, you don't have to worry about the marshal, I'm sure he's fine and will be back real soon."

She forced a smile, "Of course. Goodnight Sam."

George

In his room at the Dodge House, George Parker sat on the side of his bed and opened his wallet. He pulled out a ticket and set it on the night table. He'd planned to be on the noon stage tomorrow, thinking he'd seen everything of interest in Dodge. Tonight had changed his mind. The first thing in the morning he'd trade that stagecoach ticket in for a credit, to be used on a date yet unknown. Dodge City had suddenly become more interesting. He pulled off his shoes and stretched out on the bed thinking about Kitty Russell. She was older that the women he'd been dating of late, 30ish, just a few years younger than he, but she was beautiful and so much more of a woman than the silly, boring, debutante types he'd been seeing. Kitty was smart, had a sense of humor and real world knowledge. She was a woman of substance. And, she had the sexiest body he'd ever seen. Kitty Russell was a very good reason to linger in Dodge. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring, and hadn't mentioned a man, so winning her would easy. Almost too easy for a man of his charm and cleverness. Yes, Kitty Russell would fit into his life quite nicely.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The Next Afternoon

Jeb Mason rode to the top of a ridge and ran his hand across his thick, brown mustache. He was vain about that mustache. It hid an ugly scar he'd gotten 12 years ago when he made his first kill at the age of 16. According to his thinking, killing a man was the first sign of manhood, a good-looking mustache was the second.

A clean-shaven, baby-faced man rode up beside Jeb. His coloring, large eyes and husky build spoke to their family resemblance. Jeb reached over and patted his 18 year-old brother's arm, "Jimmy, I sure am glad you kept to our plan to meet up." Jimmy Mason's eyes shone with admiration. "I knew you wouldn't get hung in Hays City, and killing that sheriff is another notch on your belt."

"Damn right little brother, and no more hauling hay and sweeping stables for you. You had to do that stuff when Ma was alive – you being her baby boy and all. Now that she's gone, I can learn you to be a man. To start with, it's good to see you wearing that gun I sent you. You been practicing, like I said?"

"Sure have. I had to do it on the sly so Ma didn't notice, but I can draw and hit a jack rabbit before he knows I'm there."

"Good, you'll be putting notches on your belt soon. We're heading to a small, dusty stage stop about 15 miles from here. It don't get used much. The only stagecoaches that stop there are the ones taking the long route to Topeka, but that's what we want. It stops at a little town called Tecumseh, just outside of Topeka. There ain't much there, but they got a bank. We'll rob it and then ride to Mexico and the good life. When we run out of money we'll come back and rob another bank.

"Why take a stage? Can't we just ride to that Tecumseh place?"

"Stage is better, our horses are near wore out. We'll grab us some better ones in Tecumseh."

"Jeb, I sure hope to be smart like you some day. Say, you don't think anybody's tracking us, right? I mean the law."

"Nah, the deputy in Hays wouldn't have the guts after I killed Sheriff Bates."

"What about that Marshal Dillon, I hear he's a tough lawman."

Jeb shrugged, "Dillon's reputation is a lot of made up stuff, but he might follow eventually. Thing is he'll never catch up, he don't have wings. Anyway, we'll kill the old man that runs the stage stop. If Dillon follows us there, there won't be anybody to give descriptions and such." Jeb patted his brother's back, "Jimmy, that old man will be the first notch on your belt."

Matt

Matt took a long swig of water from his canteen and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The sun was high in the sky and he'd been riding since sun-up. He flicked the reins to continue on faster, he'd covered a lot of territory in the past two days, but knew it wasn't good enough. He saw no sign that he was closing in on Jeb Mason and his companion. Why Jeb had even picked this direction stumped him. There was nothing for miles and miles - no place to hide, no one to rob, nothing. As he rode he mapped out the territory in his head and thought hard. A small smile tugged at his lips – Jeremiah's place. Old Jeremiah Thomas had a cabin that served as a stage depot of sorts – a place for folks to clean up and get coffee before continuing on the long ride to Topeka. Jeb could be heading there. Of course he could also change directions, he'd always been a tricky type.

He pulled his horse to a stop. There was a choice to make, either follow Jeb's tracks and try to catch up, or trust his hunch and take a short cut to the stage stop. He paused for a second and turned his horse. If he headed east and forded Stone River, he had a good chance of getting to the Jeremiah's cabin before Mason got there. If he was wrong he'd just have to try to pick up Jeb's trail and start all over.

Dodge

George Parker paused behind the batwing doors of the Long Branch and scanned the room for Kitty. A cowboy reached around and pushed through, Parker stumbled in. The cowboy scowled. "Ya was blocking the way." Parker smiled weakly, recovering his footing and his dignity. He saw Kitty at the far end of the bar talking to Sam and walked over, "Good afternoon, Kitty."

"Hello George, it's nice to see you again."

"I saw a sign outside that promised free lunch with the purchase of a beer. I consider it part of my exploration of this part of the country to try it out."

Kitty laughed, "We have the best ham sandwiches and hard boiled eggs in Dodge. Matter of fact, I doubt you'll find hard boiled eggs of this caliber in San Francisco or anywhere else. Don't ask how I boil them. It's a secret."

George laughed. "Well then, I'll grab a sandwich, two of those amazing eggs and order a beer. I hope you'll join me."

"Happy to George. I'll grab one of the incredible eggs myself." She looked across the bar. "Sam, please bring over a couple of beers."

Matt

Stone River was as shallow as Matt expected, given the time of year, and he rode across with no trouble or resistance from his horse. He turned south, and took off at a gallop. A small cabin came into view on an otherwise barren landscape. An old nag was nibbling on the grass outside. When he neared the cabin, the door creaked open and a tall, but stooped old man stepped outside. He tugged on his long, grey and squinted in Matt's direction. A smile lit his wrinkled face.

"Marshal Dillon, what brings you way out here? I ain't complaining mind you. I don't see many folks, except for when the stage comes by, or I get to Dodge for supplies twice a year. Of course I'm pleased to see you in particular. I won't never forget how you stood up for me when those cattlemen wanted my land. And you and Miss Kitty – well – when my wife, Mabel died, you both were kind, real kind. Losing my Mabel was - we were married more than 60 years and …" The old man sighed and cleared his throat, "But, I got a feeling you're here on account a trouble. That's the business you're in."

Matt shook the old man's strong but gnarled hand. "I'm glad to see you too Jeremiah, but you're right, I am in the trouble business. I think a couple of men are heading here. One's a cold blooded killer."

"The other?"

"Not sure, but he's keeping company with a murderer who escaped jail - a husky man with a bushy, brown mustache. He hasn't been here yet, has he?"

"Nope, so I expect you'll be waiting for him. Come on in, coffee's on the stove."

Dodge

Doc leaned against the bar of the Long Branch and took off his hat. "Sam, it's been a long couple of days, I could use a shot of whiskey – the good stuff."

Sam filled a shot glass to the brim, "I haven't seen you around, Doc. You been busy?"

"Went out to the Carter farm a couple of days ago. Quite a scene. Mrs. Carter was in labor with twins, Mr. Carter had a broken wrist, 3-year-old Bess was feverish and their milk cow had the croup. I'll tell you something, things at the Carter place were a lot better when I left then when I got there." Doc took a sip of whiskey and looked around the saloon. "Sam, who's the man in the fancy suit sitting over there with Kitty?"

"Name's George Parker, a lawyer on his way to some big job in San Francisco. He seems to like hanging around here, but he's been bragging about his fancy job so I expect he'll be moving on to it soon." Doc rubbed his mustache, "Well, it's nice to see Kitty have something to distract her while Matt's off chasing a killer. We all worry about Matt, but Kitty worries more than anyone." Doc dropped a coin down on the bar. "Give me a refill Sam, I think I'll go say hello to Kitty and that Mr. Parker - friendly looking man."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Dodge City

After a brief introduction, Doc joined Kitty and George Parker at a table in the Long Branch. "Nice to meet you Doctor Adams, I was just about to tell Kitty about a rather stunning court case I won a few months ago." He launched into his triumphant tale. Doc sat back and sipped his whiskey. Tending to everyone in the Carter household had taken a toll, so being a quiet observer suited him just fine. He soon realized that nothing more than quiet observation would be expected of him. Parker liked to talk, and he and his clever ways were at the heart of every story. Doc didn't mind, the stories were indeed entertaining, and it did his heart good to see Kitty being distracted from thoughts of Matt and the murder of Sheriff Bates. Doc signaled Sam to refill his glass, and focused on Kitty while Parker talked on. She was listening attentively, but saying little, not a surprise. For all her outgoing ways she was actually a private person. She and Matt had that in common, another reason he was glad the two people he cared about so deeply, had found each other.

"Well lookey here, seems a chair's jus watin' fur me." Festus plopped himself down between Kitty and George Parker. Doc smiled behind his mustache at Parker's obvious annoyance when Kitty welcomed the Hillman. With no further ado, Festus was off and running with a tale about his Aunt Thebe. Try as he might, Parker couldn't get a word in edgewise. He tapped his foot impatiently until Festus finally concluded, "An that thar's the gosh dang truth. If I'm lyin I'm dying." Festus took a breath and Parker quickly jumped in, "Thank you for stopping by. Dodge would, no doubt, be a less colorful place without your quaint anecdotes."

Festus frowned, not sure if he was being insulted. He shrugged and got to his feet. "Ah think I'll head over ta the post office ta git the mail an such. I want things ta be in order fur when Matthew gits back."

"I'll walk out with you Festus, I think I need a nap. George, it was nice to meet you. You seem to lead an interesting life."

George Parker watched them go, thankful to be alone with Kitty again. Doctor Adams was nice enough, but that Festo – Fessus – or whatever his name was, was an insufferable fool. Letting out a relieved sigh, he sipped his beer. His eyes rested on Kitty's breasts before rising to meet her eyes. "Kitty, I've been thinking, you said you hoped to visit San Francisco one day. Why wait? Travel with me and stay for a bit. The Great Western Gold Mining Company is treating me like royalty. You'll see the best of San Francisco." He leaned forward, his eyes and voice gently coaxing. "Live is short. When an opportunity presents itself why not grasp it, relish it? You never know, San Francisco could change your life, and the city would be more beautiful for your presence."

"George, you are quite the flatterer. When I do visit San Francisco, I'll be sure to take you up on the offer to show me around."

"Miss Kitty." Sam was waving from behind the bar. "Could you come here please, there seems to be a problem with the whiskey order."

"I'll be right there Sam." "George, I have to go. Thank you for a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon."

Parker watched her go with a small but smug smile. He'd just begun to reel her in. A little cleverness, charm and finely worded pressure would do the trick. It was merely a matter of time. He wanted her, and he always got what he wanted.

Matt

Matt stood by the window in Jeremiah's cabin, grateful for the cup of strong, steaming coffee he held in his hands. From the corner of his eye he saw Jeremiah reach up and take a rifle from a rack. "Just what do you plan on doing with that?"

"You're expecting trouble and I aim to be ready to help. Seems to be two bad man heading this way, and you're one man, a good man, but there's just one of you. I reckon I can even things up." He loaded the rifle. "I ain't used it in a while, but it ain't something a man forgets."

"Jeremiah, I don't want you taking any chances. I'm the one in the trouble business, remember?"

"Marshal, I've been on this here earth for 88 years. I ain't no hero, but I ain't never stood back from doing the right thing outta fear. I'm mighty proud of that. If the good Lord takes me doing the right thing, I'll be meeting him honorable like and Mabel will be proud. Now, this here rifle is loaded and ready. I reckon you can handle things, but I'll have this sitting right here, handy like, in case it's needed."

Before Matt could answer he heard horses and glanced out the window. "They're here. I'll step behind the door and wait. You greet them like normal."

The door opened. Jeb and Jimmy strode in and glanced around. From behind the door, Matt couldn't see much, but was ready to make his move.

Jimmy kept one hand on the shiny new gun he was proudly wearing. A first kill would make his brother proud, even if it was just an unarmed, old man.

"You two fellas here for the stage to Topeka? It'll be here in 3 or 4 hours or maybe 6 or 7. Hard to say."

Jeb nodded. "We buy tickets from you?"

Jeremiah shook his head, "No, no from the driver. I don't keep money here, but there's water for washing up and good, strong coffee. All I ask is that you leave a few coins for the hospitality before getting on the stage."

"Hold it. Hands up" Matt stepped from behind the door with his gun drawn. Stunned, Jeb and Jimmy turned to face him with their hands in the air.

"Now drop your guns."

The brothers looked at each other. Jeb smiled and winked.

"I said drop your guns."

Very, very slowly Jeb started lowering one hand. It took seconds for it to reach shoulder level.

"No tricks Jeb, drop your gun." Jeb grinned. "Don't be getting all excited. I'm getting there."

Jimmy had his eyes fixed on Matt. The marshal was totally focused on Jeb. This was his chance to score big. He drew - faster than he ever had in practice. Matt's reacted in a flash, shooting Jimmy squarely in the chest. In that instant Jeb grabbed Jeremiah and pointed his gun at the old man's head. "Your turn Marshal. Drop your gun, or the old geezer gets his head blown off."

Jeb knew Jimmy had been hit but didn't know how bad. He watched Matt drop his gun to the floor before looking down at his brother. His face whitened. "Dillon, check my brother." Matt knelt and felt for a pulse. He shook his head. "He's dead."

"He's dead, so you're dead." Jeb moved his gun from Jeremiah's head and aimed at Matt.

Feeling Jeb's grip loosen, Jeremiah lunged for his rifle like a man 50 years younger. He quickly pointed the rifle at Jeb's head with one hand, and reached around with the other. "I'll take this here pistol." Stunned Jeb let the old man take the gun from his hand. With Jeb covered, Matt picked his gun up from the floor and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. Jeb snarled, "I'm gonna kill you, Dillon. If not today, it will be tomorrow or the next day. You killed my little brother and you'll die for that."

Matt ignored Jeb's tirade and clipped the handcuffs on his wrists before turning to Jeremiah. "Thank you. When the good Lord decides to take you, he'll be meeting a real fine man."

"Thank you for the chance of showing that." Jeremiah smiled through his long, grey beard, "These old bone were surely tested today."

Matt patted the old man's shoulder and shoved Jeb out the door, "Let's go. It's a two day ride to Dodge."

"Don't plan on getting there, Dillon. You're a dead man."

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

Two Days Later

Doc Adams pulled his timepiece from his pocket, as he walked down Front Street. He shook his head in amazement that it was just 10 minutes later than the last time he'd checked. He spotted Festus sitting front of the marshal's office and sunk down into the empty chair beside him. Resisting the urge to check the time yet again, he stared straight ahead. "Festus. I sure wish Matt would get back. That man he went after is a dangerous criminal – a killer – and - well I just wish he'd get back."

"I was jus thinkin that my own self, Doc."

"And we haven't heard a word from him, not a word."

"Doc, iffin Matthew's out yonder trakin a man, he ain't got no way ta send a wire or nuthin."

"I know that Festus. I'm just worried. We all are. I'm glad that that Parker fellow is around to get Kitty laughing now and again. You know how tied up in knots she can get."

"That Parker fella – I don't like him or his full-a-hisself ways, one teeny, tiny bit. He acts all smart an such, but he can't even remember my name. A name like Festus ain't so very hard to keep in ya mind. Ain't that right Doc?"

"Festus, I admit that Parker is not lacking in self admiration, but he does tell a good story."

"Mr. Fancy Pants don't tell such …" He paused and pointed. "Doc, lookey thar."

Doc looked down the street and his face lit up. There were two riders approaching and the one in front was Matt. Festus jumped to his feet. "Matthew ya surely are a sight fur sore eyes." Doc nodded in agreement and smiled, "Welcome back, Matt."

"It's good to be back." Matt wearily got off his horse and tied the reins of both horses around the rail. "This here's Jeb Mason. Festus, help me get him locked up. He's been fighting and cussing for two long days and nights, and I'll tell you, I'm tired of it."

The Dodge House

George Parker stared at himself in the mirror and ran a comb through his hair. _Time to get to the Long Branch, I hope Kitty's sitting by herself. The doctor isn't too bad, but that deputy – Festo – Fetto – Fussus – whatever – is nothing more than a useless fool. I don't know why Kitty puts up with him. Anyway, without those two hanging around, things would be moving a lot faster with Kitty._

He set down the comb, and put on his jacket, carefully smoothing down the collar. The time had come to push things with Kitty. He had to be in San Francisco very soon, and besides, being near her was driving him crazy. He desperately wanted to get her luscious body into bed, but he needed more, much more. The plan was to bring her to San Francisco, where he'd set her up in style. Then he'd marry one of those silly, wealthy, debutant types. Having sex with whatever frigid, boring bitch he married would be palatable, if he had Kitty nearby to give him real satisfaction. He'd have a wealthy, socialite wife, children with lineage and a real woman at his disposal for sex and conversation. Life would be perfect. Tonight he'd take Kitty on an outing, away from the Long Branch, and her friends. From there things would quickly fall into place.

Parker hurried out the door. Nothing could stop him from conquering the luscious and captivating Kitty Russell. She was a puzzled piece that was needed to assemble his perfect life.

Matt's Office

With Jeb safely locked up, Matt shut the door between the jail cells and his office, relieved to mute his prisoner's angry cursing. Doc appraised him with a physician's eye, "You may be weary, but you're in one piece. Glad I don't have to spend my evening patching you up."

"Ah can see why ya wore out Matthew. Afta catchin' that thar yahoo, ya had ta listen ta him jawin' about killin' ya and such. That's puttin' tired on tired."

"True Festus. Will you stay here and keep an eye on him? I'd like to get cleaned up and get some sleep."

"Sure thang Matthew, see ya tomorrow."

Matt saw Doc watching him and knew they were thinking the same thing. "I'll stop off at the Long Branch first, before I do anything else."

Long Branch

George Parker finished telling Kitty about a case he'd won by cleverly pulling a wig off a witness to reveal that she was a he. Kitty laughed with delight, "George, that's one of the funniest things I've ever heard, and they way you tell it is priceless."

Parker smiled, "We have a good time, don't we Kitty? Listen, it's a lovely evening let's get a buggy and ride out under the moonlight. I'm sure you know of a pretty little lake where we can look at the stars and drink Champaign. Let's go, what do you say?"

"George, I …. "

The batwing doors opened and the air in the saloon changed. Kitty looked across the saloon. Her eyes widened and a smile took over her face, a smile that radiated from her heart. She stood and managed to mutter. "Excuse me George," before walking towards Matt Dillon as if pulled by a string. She sized him up. He looked tired and trail worn, but not wounded or hurt. Something inside her relaxed.

"Welcome home Cowboy." "It's good to be home." Their eyes locked. "Hard trip?" "In some ways. I brought Jeb Mason in. Festus is guarding him tonight." Kitty nodded, "You look like you need sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." He gently squeezed her hand. Her skin tingled. "Matt, sleep well." Their eyes locked again for a moment, before he went out the door.

Parker remained at his table surrounded by murmurs – marshal's back – he got that murderer - I knew he'd get him – good to have Marshal Dillon back. Resentment rose in Parker's throat, and his mood darkened.

Kitty's eyes followed Matt out the door and then, still beaming, she looked at Sam. The bartender nodded with a wide grin, "Always good to have him back in town."

"You said it, Sam". She suddenly remembered Parker and walked over. "George, I'm sorry for the interruption."

"That's all right. The return of a lawman seems to be a noteworthy event around here."

"It is. I'd like for you to meet him, that is if you'll be around a little longer. I don't think you ever told me when you had to arrive in San Francisco."

He bristled at her easy acceptance of his departure. "I'll be here as long as I please. Like I mentioned, the Great Western Gold Mining Company treats me like royalty." He got to his feet with a plastered on smile. "I think I'll make an early night of it. See you tomorrow. I'll tell you more about my new job. It means prestige, money – a life that many can only dream of. Picture that."

A look of puzzlement touched Kitty's face. There was a strange harshness to George's tone, and a darkness in his eyes. She dismissed it as her imagination and smiled, "Good night George."

He left quickly, angry and shocked. The way Kitty glowed in the presence of that marshal, made it clear that there was an obstacle to his plan. The fact that the obstacle was a man living on a marshal's salary, was almost laughable. He probably couldn't even afford a decent suit. No matter, the obstacle would be removed and Kitty would be his, on his terms. That was what he wanted, and that was what he would get.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

With the Long Branch closed up tight for the night, Kitty carried a lamp to light the way to her room. She climbed the stairs, filled with quiet happiness. Matt was back, safe and sound, and the world seemed a better place. It would have been nice to have him here beside her, but she understood, and even agreed, that it was best that he go to his room and sleep a heavy sleep. She knew him better than anyone, and after seeing the exhausted slump of his shoulders and the depth of weariness in his eyes, she knew he needed the kind of long, deep sleep that restored body and mind. Tomorrow they'd talk about what happened – who he'd had to kill and why – how much he grieved for Sheriff Danny Bates, a man they knew and liked, and whose name had been added to the list of lawman killed in the line of duty. Tomorrow they'd see each other during the day and talk, but after hours, when the town was asleep, the night would be theirs. She'd hear his familiar footsteps outside her door and greet him wearing the blue, satin negligee he'd given her for her birthday. They'd hold each other and speak of things no one else would understand. Then they'd make slow, sweet love and sleep entwined, body, mind and soul. Kitty got into bed, turned out the light and fell into a peaceful sleep. Today had turned out to be a good day, tomorrow would be even better.

George Parker lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Kitty had never mentioned Dillon or any other man, but the look on her face when she saw him meant more than any wedding ring would have. Unable to relax, he stood and paced back and forth in the small hotel room. Kitty was beautiful, sexy, smart and funny. Perhaps it had been foolish to believe there was no man in her life, but if he'd imagined one it wouldn't have been some lawman. A woman like Kitty could do better. He'd make her understand that, but it was a task most easily completed with Dillon out of the picture. The immediate challenge was how to get rid of him.

Growing more and more agitated, Parker put on his shoes and threw on a jacket to go for a walk. He quietly went past the night clerk, sound asleep at the front desk, and slipped out the door. The air was brisk and streets deserted. Deep in thought, he walked aimlessly down Front Street, his quiet footsteps barely breaking the silence of the night. After a few minutes, the sound of snoring, impossibly loud snoring, jarred him into noticing his surroundings. He was outside the marshal's office. He peeked through the window and saw deputy Fesso, or what ever his name was, snoring and snorting like a wild pig, with a big grin on his face. Parker shook his head in disgust and continued walking. He turned the corner and found himself in the alley behind the office. He heard some one speaking and stopped short. The voice was loud and agitated. Parker looked around and realized it was coming from one of the jail cells inside.

"I'm gonna kill you Dillon. You, killed my baby brother. I'm gonna kill you and it ain't gonna be pretty. Damn you Dillon."

A slow smile crossed Parker's face. It was the man Dillon had brought in, a man whose anger could be put to good use. All he had to do was free the prisoner, and present him with the opportunity to kill Dillon. The obstacle to his happiness would be gone, that simple. If he tried to free him now that Festo man might wake. A plan was needed, a clever plan.

The Next Morning

"Kitty, I didn't think you'd be up this early but I'm sure glad you were."

The couple sat in Delmonico's drinking coffee and waiting for their breakfast orders to be served.

"Well, I'm glad you stopped by to ask me to breakfast, and I must say, you look a whole lot better this morning than you did last night."

"Yeah." Matt took a sip of coffee. "Amazing what 12 hours of sleep can do. Kitty, I – I have a lot to talk to you about, but not here."

"I know, Matt. Tonight will be ours."

He nodded with the half smile that melted her heart. Joe Delmonico appeared with oatmeal and toast for Kitty, and a double order of ham, eggs and biscuits for Matt. She smiled at the size of his breakfast, but knew it was probably the first real meal he'd in weeks. He saw her smile and shrugged with a grin as he stabbed a piece of ham with a fork. They dug in, happy to be together.

Pausing mid-meal, Kitty dabbed a napkin on her lips and asked as innocently as she could, "Matt, what about Jeb Mason? Do you have to take him back to Hays?"

Matt could see she was trying to hide her concern that he'd have to risk another journey with the killer. "No, I got a wire from Judge Brookins this morning. He was glad I locked Mason up in the nearest town, and will be here tomorrow with the paper work. There won't be a trial for additional crimes. Mason will be hung right here in Dodge tomorrow afternoon."

"We hardly ever have hangings here Matt, and I admit I'm glad for that, but I'm happy you don't have to take him back to Hays."

Matt met her eyes for a long second, "Me too, Kitty."

She put a hand on his. He rarely admitted finding duty a burden.

Mr. Delmonico returned with the check. Matt set some coins on the table and the couple stood to leave. Kitty frowned as she opened the door. "Matt do you smell that?" "Sure do." He stepped into the street and looked down Front Street. At the far end, flames and smoke were coming out of an abandoned warehouse. "Kitty, go to the town hall and get someone to ring the fire bell. That fire's blazing, we have to put it out before it spreads." Kitty nodded and hurried across the street. Matt took off down Front Street. A few men were hurrying in the same direction. Matt motioned for them to move faster, "Let go, you know what to do, we can't let that fire spread."

Flames were shooting out of the building by the time Matt got near. A loud gong sounded 4 times – the signal there was a fire, and help was needed. Matt whispered, "Fast work Kitty." Men rushed in and formed lines to pass buckets along. Festus appeared and quickly took charge of pumping water.

From his window in the Dodge House, George Parker watched the men run down Front Street. It has been easy to start the fire, and it was gratifying to see all those fine citizens hurrying to put it out - such good people. Parker let out a laugh and hurried out of the hotel. He walked unnoticed to the marshal's office, and a quick look through the window told him that it was empty. He hurried inside and looked around. A large ring with keys was hanging from a peg on the wall. He grabbed it and went to the cells in the back. Jeb Mason jumped to his feet. "Who the hell are you?"

Parker fumbled with the keys trying to find the right one. "You don't need to know my name. I'm here to let you out, but only if you agree to do one thing."

"What's that?"

"Kill Marshal Dillon. I don't think you'll mind doing that, but I don't want him killed here in town, that would cause complications. I have a horse waiting in back of this building. Ride off, Dillon will no doubt track you. Be ready to ambush and kill him. It shouldn't be very hard. Hide in a tree or behind a rock, or something, and shoot him when he gets near enough."

"What's it to you?"

"That doesn't matter. I'm giving you your freedom in exchange for killing Dillon. Leave clear evidence that he's dead, and be on your way."

Jeb smiled, "Sounds good. Let me out."

Parker found the right key and unlocked the door. Jeb was gone in an instant. George Parker locked the cell door. For some reason that amused him. He quickly returned to his hotel room and looked out his hotel window. The citizens of Dodge were still fighting a fire. Jeb Mason would have a good head start. Setting up an ambush would be easy for a killer like him. With Dillon dead, Kitty would be distraught and needing a change of scenery. Yes, he would get what he wanted. He always did.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Facing the flaming warehouse, the men of Dodge worked ferociously, to quell the fire. They knew that a fire spreading through town would be the ruin of all of them. Matt's shirt was soaked with sweat when he finally set down his bucket to assess the situation. The smell of fire, smoke and ash permeated the air but the flames were doused and embers smothered. The building was reduced to a few damp, half burnt pieces of wood and piles of wet ashes. Matt raised his hands to signal everyone to stop whatever they were doing – pumping – passing buckets – tossing water. "Folks things are under control. You did a great job. The fire didn't spread and no one was hurt. I'm proud to be here working with you." The words earned applause and cheers. Backs were slapped and hands shaken as everyone gratefully drifted back to normal life. Festus left the water pump, and dried his hands on his shirt, "Matthew, Ah sure am glad this here fire didn't spread. It coulda been real bad. Ah just can't figure how it started up."

"That's exactly what I'd like to know, Festus."

"Well, I'd best be gittin' back ta the office. It's almost time ta give Jeb Mason lunch, not that he's deservin' a 3 meals a day."

"I'll be along soon. I want to take a last look around."

Matt poked through the ashes looking for answers, even though he wasn't sure what an answer might look like. He was only sure that a fire starting at this end of Front Street was strange. There was no one nearby cooking, having a smoke, camping or even lighting a fire to get warm. With a last glance at the ruins, he decided that the mystery couldn't be solved right now, and headed to his office. He was a few yards from the door when he saw Festus waving his arms, "Matthew, Matthew, the prisoner's gone."

"Gone?" Matt hurried passed Festus into the building. The cell that had held Jeb Mason was locked but empty.

"Matthew, he wus right thar. Ah figured it best ta help with the fire so I left him – but Matthew…"

"Festus, someone started that fire, and while it was blazing Mason was set free. I can't say why or how, but I know those two things are connected. I'm going after Jeb Mason."

"Want me ta cum with ya?"

"No, Festus. If I'm right, that fire was no accident. Whoever set it may still be here, and we don't know what he'll do next. I need you in town." Matt started to leave but turned back. "Um Festus, tell Kitty where I went. She's - just tell her."

Matt went out the back door and saw a fresh set of hoof prints. The thought that he might be being set up, crossed his mind. He'd have to be careful but there was no choice but to go after Jeb Mason. He got on his horse and galloped off.

Feeling guilty and discouraged Festus went to the Long Branch to find Kitty. She was standing at the bar next to George Parker.

"Hello, Miss Kitty. Hello Mr. Parkson or maybe it's Mr. Park. Ya name is real hard fur a man ta keep in his head." Parker ignored Festus and waved the bartender over. "Sam, I'd like a shot of whiskey. I see the real good stuff is way up there on the top shelf. Break it out. Price is no object."

Kitty ignored Parker and turned to Festus, "What's wrong? You look like you lost your best friend. The fire got put out, and no one was hurt."

"Miss Kitty," Festus shook his head. "Whilst we was putting out that thar fire, Jeb Mason got outta jail. Seems ta Matthew an me he likely had help. Anyways, Matthew went afta him. Ah offered ta go along, but Matthew said ta keep an eye on Dodge." Festus let out a big sigh. "Ah was in charge a Jeb Mason, and let Matthew down."

"Festus, you went to fight the fire. You couldn't have know that someone would help that terrible man escape. I'm sure Matt doesn't blame you, please don't blame yourself."

"Thank ya, Miss Kitty. I'll be movin' along now . Ah wanna be extra good on keepin' a check on the town."

Kitty watched the dispirited deputy leave and looked at George, "What kind of person would let a cold blooded killer like Jeb Mason, out of jail. I just don't understand people sometimes."

Parker leaned towards her and slowly shook his head. "Kitty I can't answer that, I wish I could. Some people do bad things, really bad things. There is no accounting for it."

"I guess you're right."

"Kitty, just remember that no matter what happens I'm someone you can always turn to. I – well – since I've been here, I believe we've developed a bond of sorts. Look I know I wasn't myself last night, the way I left abruptly and in a bad mood, but I want you to know you can count on me."

"Thank you George. That's very sweet of you to say. Excuse me, I have some things to take care of in my office." She didn't, but she wanted to be alone to think. She'd met George Parker when he cleverly got rid of an annoying drunk by tricking him into slipping in a puddle of beer. After that he was friendly and amusing. The kind of man who was clever and fun, and craved attention. She enjoyed his stories and thought he was enjoying his free time, before starting his new job. Last night, when he invited her for a ride in the moonlight, she was going to turn him down, but the attempt seemed an innocent enough flirtation for a man who had to move on soon. But then, something changed, and changed abruptly. There was a strange darkness about him that was off putting. It probably didn't matter. He'd be leaving soon for the big, important job he kept talking about. She had more important things to worry about. She pushed the door of her office open and went back into the saloon.

Matt

Matt had no trouble following Jeb's trail, and he rode at a good clip, but his mind was racing faster than his horse. Mason had made no secret of his desire to kill him, so there a good chance he'd be lying in ambush somewhere out there. They were hours from Dodge, so it was clear Jeb wanted to be out in the middle of nowhere before making his move. Being alert to every shadow and movement was crucial. Matt felt his horse's stride change. His gait was off, as if a shoe was loose. He climbed off and lifted a hoof to check it. Leaves rustled in the tree behind him. He turned swiftly and drew while looking up. A rifle flashed. Before Matt could fire a hot, searing pain hit his gut. He fell back and rolled over from the force of the bullet. Face down, blood seeped into the earth from his lower abdomen, dirt filled his mouth.

Jeb Mason let out a harsh laugh and jumped down from the tree. "Dillon, that's for my baby brother. He spotted Dillon's horse and whacked him hard to send him on his way. "I don't want no lawman's horse. It's bad luck." He watched the horse gallop off and walked over to Dillon's body. "A dead lawman is the best kind, but I ain't done with you." He grinned gleefully. "I'm gonna blast your face off just for fun." Jeb stuck the toe of his boot under Dillon's side and pushed him over on his back. Matt's hand still gripped his gun. He fired. Jeb fell back, shock on his face, his last word, "No."

Matt grabbed his wounded abdomen with both hands. It was bad. He had to slow the bleeding to have any chance at all, and he had to get lucky. He needed help soon, real soon. With one arm pressed against the gaping wound, he tore open his shirt and maneuvered out of it. Cold sweat ran down his face from pain and effort. With one hand he bunched his shirt up and pressed it against the wound as hard as he could. He groaned and lay back. The bleeding was slowing, but he couldn't last long without help. Vultures were already circling above ready to feast on Jeb Mason's dead body. Matt felt for his gun, and fired into the sky. He'd keep them away as long as he could, but if help didn't happen by soon the big birds would have two corpses to feast on. He swallowed hard, "Damn it Kitty, part of me believed that we could really be together some day – grow old together. The rest of me knew the truth – lawmen don't live long enough to grow old." He felt blood seep through the balled up shirt he was pressing against the wound. He tried to press harder. The pain grew worse, consciousness fell away.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Dodge City

George Parker dabbed his lips with a napkin and drop it on the table, after dining alone in Delmonico's. The food in Dodge was something he wouldn't miss when he got to San Francisco with Kitty. He'd teach her what fine dining was all about. He paid his bill and headed to the Long Branch, to find the red head who would soon be his.

Minutes later, he pushed through the doors into the saloon. A couple of cowboys were playing poker, and a few others were sweet talking saloon girls, but the overall tone of the play was muted. He spotted Kitty standing at the bar with Doc and that Fesso fellow, and walked over. "Kitty, this place could use a little livening up. I have a hilarious story about the time I got a judge so confused that he forgot which man was on trial."

Before Kitty could answer Festus leaned over and looked Parker in the eye, "We've been jawin' on important matters here. Ah was jus tellin' Doc and Miss Kitty that Matthew thought it mighty strange that a fire started right when Jeb was busted outta jail. When Matthew catches up ta that yahoo, I guarantee ya he'll be getting' answers."

Kitty let out a heavy sigh, "I just hope Matt gets back soon."

Parker smiled inwardly. The marshal was surely dead by now, and Jeb on his way to his next adventure. He leaned towards Kitty. Her perfume was intoxicating. He was exploding with desire, but kept his voice soft and steady. "I'm sure the marshal will be back soon." He shook his head, "Kitty, it's such a shame that a US Marshals makes such little money. With a salary like that he couldn't possibly …"

"FESTUS – DOC – FESTUS – FESTUS. Voices were calling from the street. "IT'S THE MARSHAL'S HORSE. THE MARSHAL'S HORSE."

Festus raced out the door, with Doc and Kitty close behind. Parker followed at a leisurely pace, trying not to smile. Dillon truly was dead.

Festus noticed the horse's odd gait. "Steady Buck." He ran a comforting hand down the animal's neck and lifted his right, front hoof. "Let's have a look see. Shoe's awful loose. Seems it's been like that fur a while now."

Doc looked the horse up and down. "There's a splattering of blood on him but not a lot. Still, for Matt to lose his horse – well, it can't be good."

"Doc, one thang I can say fur sure is that Buck's shoe bein' loose makes it easy ta follow his tracks. I'll git Ruth saddled lickity-split and head out. Buck could a gone zig-zaggy like, but eventual his tracks should git me ta Matthew."

"I'll get my medical bag, and go with you. He might be hurt."

"I'm going too."

Despite the determination in Kitty's voice, Festus shook his head, "Doc, Miss Kitty iffin Matthew's hurt or in trouble, I gotta git ta him quick. You'd slow me down. Don't ya see?"

"No, we will not slow you down. Doc, go ahead and get your bag." Kitty glared at Festus. "I'll hire a wagon with two good horse, and be ready by the time Ruth is saddled. And Festus, if at any point you want to go faster, do it and we'll follow."

"Looks like thar ain't no point in arguing."

"That's right Festus. Arguing would waste time."

The Hillman nodded. "I'll git us rifles, saddle up Ruth, an we'll head off."

George Parker watched the three friends with a bemused smile. They had forgotten all about him. He knew they'd find a dead man, and Kitty would return distressed and ready to be talked into leaving painful memories behind for a wonderful trip to San Francisco. Once there, she'd see the life he could offer her, and be grateful.

Doc raced to his office, Kitty to the stable and Festus to grab rifles from the marshal's office before saddling Ruth. Each of them had the same thought - if Matt was badly hurt and bleeding, there was no way they could get to him in time – no way. They could be hurrying to find a corpse.

Matt

Matt could hear the sound of vultures flying above, but didn't have the strength to feel for his gun. He'd run out of time and he knew it.

"Marshal, Marshal Dillon." Matt heard a voice from far, far away and slowly opened his eyes a slit. The lined face of Jeremiah Thomas came into focus. Matt figured he'd died and must be in heaven. That was the only reasonable explanation for seeing Jeremiah. It was simple, the old man had died and gone to heaven, and then was sent to greet him. A searing pain shot up his side. It couldn't be heaven. He must have been sent the other way. But what was a good man like Jeremiah doing there?

"Marshal?"

Slowly realizing he must still be alive Matt whispered weakly, "Jeremiah?"

"Yep, it's me." The old man smiled. "Let's get a sip of water into you." Jeremiah gently pressed a canteen against Matt's lips.

"How'd you happen by?"

"Well, like I told you, I head to Dodge once or twice a year. I was on my way, when I heard a gunshot in the distance. I decided to see what was going on. Figured someone might need help."

"That was me, a little while ago, scaring vultures away."

"Well, when I saw you, I thought you were dead. Glad you ain't, but you're in bad shape. I came along none too soon. Still got a bullet in you?"

Matt nodded weakly. "Got to come out."

"I dug out bullets in my time. Sometimes it worked out, sometimes it didn't. But I got a pretty sharp knife, and cloth I always carry with me, just in case. Got a bit of whiskey to dull the pain."

"Do it."

The old man quickly lit a fire and tore up the cloth to use as bandages. He poured the whiskey down Matt's throat and ran the knife through the fire. "Now hold as still as you can. It's gonna hurt like the dickens - yell if you gotta. Ain't no one around to hear but me." He yanked Matt's balled up shirt from the wound and tossed it aside. "I gotta try and see the bullet." He poured water on the wound and pressed the hot knife against opening. "Thank you Lord, I see it and it ain't too deep. Yell if you gotta, I'm going to get under that bullet and force it out." Matt passed out from pain before he could yell. The bullet came out. Jeremiah had a bandage ready to press against the wound, then he wrapped Matt's torso to keep the bandage in place. He looked up to the sky. "I did my best Lord, I reckon it's up to you now." Jeremiah put a hand on the ground to steady himself as he got to his feet. He looked upwards again. "And Lord, if you're gonna keep me here on this earth much longer it would be nice if my old bones didn't creak so much."

Thinking it best to let Matt sleep by the fire a bit before trying to get him into the wagon, Jeremiah walked over to Jeb's body. "You don't deserve respect, but I don't fancy leaving any man to the vultures. I ain't got the strength to bury you, even if I did, I ain't got no shovel. I'll do the right thing though and drag you into a cave I see yonder. It's small enough that it won't be no trouble to cover the entrance with stones."

Jeremiah finished his good deed and returned to Matt. The lawman moaned and whispered, "Thanks Jeremiah. I wouldn't have lasted much longer."

"You ain't outta the woods yet, but you're a ways better than you were. My wagon's just a few feet away. Let's see if we can get you in it, then we'll head to Dodge and Doc Adams. I used up my water on your wound, so we'll take the route that goes by Silver Creek so I can fill my canteens and water my horse.

It took some doing, but with Jeremiah's help Matt struggled to his feet and got into the back of the wagon. Jeremiah spread a quilt on top of him. "The wind's picking up real good, let's keep you warm."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

With Matt's fate weighing heavily on his mind, Festus got 3 rifles from the office, and was saddling his mule, Ruth, when Doc and Kitty pulled up in a wagon. The deputy handed one rifle to Doc and the other to Kitty, "Ah reckon it best we all be armed jus' in case. Miss Kitty I know you don't do much shootin' but…"

"I can manage when I have to." Festus nodded and got on his mule, "Ready?"

Doc set the rifle beside him and took hold of the reins. "We've got medical supplies, food and water. Let's get going."

Festus pointed south. Doc flicked the reins. "Go as fast as you need to. If we don't keep up we'll catch up." Kitty added a determined nod.

George Parker stood on the sidewalk and waved as they went by. "Good luck. Get back safe and soon."

They traveled at a steady clip. The winds picked up. Kitty tightened her shawl around her, but the wool wrap couldn't melt the icy fear growing around her heart. Doc stared straight ahead without speaking. As a physician he was practiced in maintaining a neutral tone, but right now he feared his voice would betray everything he was feeling - fear for Matt, concern for Kitty and dismay that if they didn't get to Matt in time, Festus would never forgive himself for leaving the prisoner, to go and fight the fire. Doc flicked the reins again, and let out a small sigh, it was best to keep silent right now.

They rode on, mile upon mile. Festus Haggen prided himself on being an eagle-eyed tracker, but the growing winds stirred up the dirt, making Buck's trail harder and harder to follow. After several hours Festus slowed and turned around, "Doc, Miss Kitty, keep ya eyeballs pealed, if ya see somethin' give a holler." Doc saw that the winds were erasing the tracks they were trying to follow, but hoped that Kitty was oblivious. Fact was, she was fully aware of the disappearing trail, but hoped the good doctor hadn't noticed. They peered carefully across the countryside as the miles went by. Out of the bleak landscape, something caught Festus' eye. "Lookey." He jumped off Ruth and ran towards an object on the ground. Kitty and Doc hurried over. Festus cleared his throat, "It's Matthew's shirt. Stiffed up with blood – badge still on - right thar."

Doc lifted the shirt with trembling hands, "An awful lot of blood is caked on this shirt. Blood that's been dry a good amount of time." He ran his hand across his mustache, "Not a good sign."

Kitty frowned. "Doc, why would Matt take his shirt off? Maybe that's someone else's blood. Maybe he tried to use his shirt as a bandage for somebody else."

Doc looked the shirt over. He wanted to be hopeful, but slowly shook his head, "There's the bullet hole. He was hit and hit bad."

Festus pointed at the ground a few feet away, "An lookey, a lotta blood got spilled fur sure." Festus looked from the blood soaked ground to Matt's blood caked shirt and let out a heavy sigh, "Ah hate ta say it, but maybe we don't see Matthew here 'cause somebody buried him."

Kitty crossed her arms, eyes flashing, "Festus, then where's the grave? Do you see any sign of a grave?" Kitty let out a breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just …"

"Miss Kitty, thar ain't no cause ta say sorry. Ya right, thar ain't no mound a earth or nuthin'. But if Matthew ain't buried, where's he at?"

Doc scanned the area. The wind was blowing dirt around, but a mound of earth would have been obvious. "I have an idea. We know by the bullet hole in that shirt, that Matt was shot. We also know how stubborn he is. Even when he's hurt, he does things that seem impossible." Doc pointed at the land around them. "I see patches of tall grass, big rocks and groves of trees. Matt could have wandered off trying to find help. He still could be out there. We can't search every inch but we could get lucky. Let's each take a direction and search for any sign of Matt. One thing though - keep sight of the wagon and come back when it's not easy to see. The last thing we need is for one of us to wander off and get lost."

Kitty and Festus agreed and the three friends headed off in different directions looking for any spot of blood, patch of fabric, glimmer of hope. A few hours later they returned to the wagon looking glum. There was no need to compare notes. They'd found no sign of Matt.

"Miss Kitty," Festus took off his hat and spoke quietly, "It's gonna be dark in an hour or so. Do ya wanna head back ta Dodge? Course we'd get thar in the middle a the night. Or we could camp here and start back in the morning."

Touched that Festus was leaving the decision to her, and overcome by hopelessness, tears stared to well. She blinked them back – banished them. She was Kitty Russell. Kitty Russell didn't fall apart under pressure – Kitty Russell looked at a situation, made a decision and acted. "Festus, your mule and our horses should rest for the night, I guess we could all use a little rest. I see no reason to hurry back to Dodge, and who knows, a clue could turn up. Let's camp here tonight."

Festus nodded, "Doc, you git a fire going, thar might still be time fur me to git us a jack rabbit ta cook.

Matt

Jeremiah Thomas flicked the reins to urge his old horse faster. He hated pushing her hard, but Dodge was getting close, and he had to get there. After stopping at Silver Creek for water, Marshal Dillon's condition seemed to grow worse. He couldn't say exactly what was wrong, but he heard the marshal's groans, and saw blood seeping from the wound, and knew it wasn't good. He flicked the reins once more, "Sorry old lady, you'll get some carrots when this is all done." He wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. Doc Adams was the smartest doctor he'd seen, in all his born days, it would be a relief to turn the marshal over to him. He looked upwards, "Lord, this here is a good man, and he's got a lot of years of doing good left in him. I'm real close to Dodge City, please let me get him there." He reached the edge of town, turned his wagon onto Front Street and drove directly to Doc's office. Moving as fast as his creaky, old bones allowed, he climbed out of the wagon and leaned over Matt's unconscious form, "We're in Dodge. I'm gonna get Doc. You're gonna be fine." With a final tug on the quilt that covered Matt, Jeremiah hurried up the stairs and knocked on Doc's door. He knocked a second time and a third.

Kitty

Lying next to a dying fire, Kitty stared up at the stars. "Matt, what happened to you? I heard Doc and Festus talking, they thought I was asleep. I guess they want to find a gentle way to tell me. They think you were badly wounded, but somehow managed to wander off to look for help. With no one and nothing for miles and miles, they think you died somewhere out there. Oh Matt, I know you always thought lawmen don't live long enough to grow old, but I thought that together, you and I were somehow – special." A tear rolled down her cheek, others threatened to follow. She brushed it away. "Know something Matt, we are something special and I'm not giving up hope. I can't."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Grumbling and shaking his head, Jeremiah Thomas gingerly hurried down the stairs from Doc's after knocking on the door repeatedly. It never occurred to him that Doc Adams would not be in his office when he was needed. He leaned over the back of his wagon. Matt was asleep but stirring uneasily. "Marshal, you try and rest."

He tugged at his long grey beard, wondering where to go next, and decided on the Long Branch Saloon. Doc was known to spend time there, and if he wasn't there now, that nice lady, Kitty Russell, might know where he went. He quickly walked down the street and pushed through the batwing doors.

"Well it's Jeremiah Thomas. Welcome, we don't see you in Dodge very often."

"Hello Sam, I'm looking for Doc Adams. He ain't in his office so I thought he might be here. If he ain't, I'll be wanting to speak with Miss Kitty."

"Doc and Miss Kitty are off looking for the marshal, Festus too." Sam set a beer mug on the bar. "Come wet your whiskers, and I'll tell you about it."

"Sam, I got Marshal Dillon in my wagon, right down the street. That's why I need Doc. Marshal's hurt pretty bad. I dug a bullet out of him, but he ain't in good shape."

The saloon froze – all eyes turned to Jeremiah, including the eyes of George Parker, who was alone at a table in a corner of the room. Sam found his voice. "Well – we – I'll – let's get him up to Doc's and make him comfortable. A couple of you men come help, so we can carry him nice and smooth."

The saloon emptied out, with men eager offer assistance. Parker remained seated. He threw back his whiskey and slammed the empty glass down on the table. How could this happen? All that idiot, Jeb Mason, had to do was shoot the marshal from hiding and make sure he was dead. Cursing Mason, under his breath, Parker left the saloon unnoticed and headed towards the Dodge House.

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Parker."

Annoyed at being disturbed when he wanted to think, Parker turned sharply, "WHAT."

"I work at the telegraph office, Mr. Parker. This just came for you." Parker grabbed the message with the barest of nods and continued walking to his hotel room.

4 strong men slowly lifted Matt from Jeremiah's wagon. They carefully carried him up the steps to Doc's, and gently set him down on the bed in the front room. Jeremiah and Sam stayed behind when the others left. Sam pulled off the marshal's boots, thinking he'd be more comfortable, "Jeremiah, he's awful pale."

"And his breathing ain't too good." Jeremiah sighed heavily and covered Matt with 2 warm blankets, "I don't know what else to do for him."

Sam patted Jeremiah's shoulder. "You did a fine thing taking the bullet out and getting him here. I'll keep watch for Doc and the others, and get Doc up here as soon as he hits town."

"Good." Jeremiah pulled a wooden chair over to the bed. "I'll sit by the marshal tonight and do my best to keep him comfortable."

The Dodge House

George Parker reached his hotel room and quickly closed the door behind him. He unfolded the telegram and read it with wide-eyed disbelief.

_To: Mr. George Parker_

_From: The Great Western Gold Mining Company _

_Expected you yesterday. Arrive within 48 hour or job agreement is null and void._

He crumbled the message and threw it against the wall, yelling, "I'll get there when I get there and you'll be grateful. You'll never find a another lawyer like me. I know how to win." He pulled his bow tie from his shirt, and paced around the small room, trying to focus his mind. He couldn't leave Dodge without Kitty, and he had to kill Dillon to get her. It had to be done cleverly, he needed a plan. He looked out the window. It was getting late. The saloons were closing. An idea started to formulate. He watched and waited until the streets were deserted, and quietly left the hotel. Staying close to buildings, under cover of darkness and shadow, he made his way to Doc's and noiselessly went up the stairs. All was quiet. He peered through Doc's window and liked what he saw. Dillon was asleep, and on the nearby bed-stand, was a water pitcher and a cup. The old man sitting next to the bed, had nodded off. His soft snores were music to Parker's ears. He opened the door part way, and slipped inside. The flickering lamp on Doc's desk gave off just enough light to see by. He opened the medicine cabinet and was gratified to find each bottle carefully marked. One label – Arsenic – jumped out at him, and he gleefully grabbed the bottle. Moving quietly but wasting no time, he opened the bottle and emptied the contents into the pitcher of water, on the bed-stand near Matt's head. Then he slid the empty bottle into Jeremiah's pocket. He smiled smugly - clever indeed. No matter who gave Dillon the poisoned water, the old man would be blamed. If Kitty was the one who gave the marshal the lethal drink, all the better. He'd sweep in with his lawyerly knowledge and reassure her that, given the circumstances, she couldn't be charged with murder. Kitty would be endlessly grateful. It was cleverness personified. Parker went back to his hotel room a happy man.

A Few Hours Later

With bleary eyes, Sam looked down Front Street, from an upstairs window of the Long Branch. He'd spent the night watching for Doc and the others. He rubbed the back of his neck. The sun had been up for a few hours, and he wondered if he should go check on Jeremiah and the marshal. He looked out the window once more and spotted a familiar form, Festus on his mule. With a celebratory hoot, he hurried to the middle of Front Street and waved his arms back and forth over his head. Festus saw, and gave Ruth a kick to hurry along. Doc and Kitty followed.

"Sam, Ah know ya been waitin' eager an all but…"

"Festus, the marshal's here. Jeremiah Thomas brought him in. He needs Doc."

After a second of stunned silence, Doc jumped from his wagon and raced to his office with Kitty close behind. Festus looked at Sam, "Ah gotta take Ruth an this here wagon ta the stable, cum tell me what's been goin' on."

Doc and Kitty clambered up the stairs and burst into Doc's office. Jeremiah woke at the sound. "I sure am glad to see you folks."

Kitty rushed to Matt's side and took his hand. "Matt." The way she said his name spoke volumes, and from a place somewhere between unconsciousness and wakefulness, he whispered, "Kitty." She kissed his forehead, her soft lips lingered. Doc pretended not to notice, but Jeremiah smiled. After a lifetime with his Mabel, he recognized true love, and it warmed his heart.

Kitty gently brushed a stray hair from Matt's eyes, "Your lips are so dry they're white, you need water." She took the pitcher from the bed-stand and filled the cup.

Doc put on his glasses, "Kitty's right, I can see you're dehydrated. Definitely part of your problem right now. Take a good long drink, then I'll examine your wound."

Kitty smiled and lifted Matt's head while holding the cup to his lips. "Come on Cowboy, drink."

His throat was so dry he could barely swallow and his lips were cracked. He pressed his lips together firmly. One work escaped. "No."

"Matt, you need water." Kitty's exasperation was clear in her tone.

Doc looked up sharply, "Matt, drink that whole cupful, it's what you need."

Jeremiah straightened in his chair. "Marshal, listen to Doc. I didn't keep you alive so's you could quit now."

Matt turned his face from the cup and whispered. "Maybe a dream – but - seemed real – maybe half awake - a man put something in the water."

Jeremiah frowned, "Marshal, I've been here the whole night. I didn't see nothing."

"Listen to me Matt." Doc rested a hand on the marshal's arm. "You've been through an awful lot and the mind can play tricks when .…"

"What's this?" Jeremiah put a hand in his pocket and felt something odd. He held it up – an amber bottle marked ARSENIC. Doc grabbed it. "Good Lord, it's empty."

For an instant, no one spoke. Kitty realized Matt was right, and was horrified at how close she'd come to poisoning him. Jeremiah was stunned at finding the bottle in his pocket. Doc's professionalism asserted itself. He spoke calmly and firmly. "Kitty, get rid of the tainted water, get a cup from the cabinet and fill it with fresh water. Matt still needs to drink. Jeremiah, get some bandages from that drawer over there, and give me a hand. I have to examine this wound."

As Kitty followed Doc's instructions, the horror she was feeling turned to anger. Poisoning the water and planting the bottle on Jeremiah was pure evil, yet she had to admit, it was a clever way to kill a man and place blame elsewhere. Clever – that word again. George Parker used it all the time, to described himself and his actions. He said it was his calling card.

Doc removed Jeremiah's makeshift bandage from Matt's abdomen. The wound was red with irritation, and the work hadn't been be a doctor, so the scar would be pretty bad. Still, there was no sign of infection. Matt needed salve on the wound, lots of water and nutrition, but he'd be all right. Doc looked up. "Jeremiah, there is no doubt in my mind that you saved Matt life, you did an amazing job."

The old man beamed. "I guess I managed to learn a thing or two in my 88 years on this earth." He looked from Doc to Kitty, "And, I hope you have no doubt, ma'am, that I don't know how that bottle got in my pocket. I'd never hurt the marshal."

Kitty smiled up at him, "We know that, without a doubt."

"Thank you, well I'll go about my business now - stock up on supplies and head home."

Doc patted Jeremiah's back, "We thank you. One thing, would you stop at Delmonico's and have them send over some chicken broth. We need to start building Matt's strength up."

Jeremiah nodded and was on his way. Kitty squeezed Matt's hand, "I'll be right back, Cowboy. I just thought of something I have to take care of."

She was at the door before he could answer. He watched her go with worry filled eyes.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Kitty's destination was the Dodge House. As she marched down Front Street, thoughts of George Parker filled her head. He liked being the center of attention, no doubt about it, but that hadn't bothered her. Some men were just like that, and he was a lot more entertaining than most. He was fun to be with, at least at first, with his tales of his courtroom feats and adventures. Sure he flirted a bit, but he was on his way to a job in San Francisco, so she figured it was all in fun. Then something changed, and she saw his dark and angry side. Looking back she realized it coincided with Matt's return with Jeb Mason. She couldn't quite put the puzzle pieces together, but she knew she was right. George Parker was the one who wanted Matt dead. She hurried into the hotel and struck the bell twice, to get Howie's attention, "What's George Parker's room number?"

"Hello Miss Kitty, number 205 right upstairs and…"

Before Howie was finished, Kitty was at Parker's door, tapping lightly. "George, it's Kitty."

Parker smiled, he hadn't expected things to unfold so quickly. He smoothed back his hair and straightened his tie before opening the door. As he expected, Kitty stood before him looking upset, her lips tightly pressed together. "Kitty, it's always lovely to see you, but I have a feeling something is wrong. You've come to the right person. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can help. You can count on me." He gently pulled her into the room and closed the door.

She lowered her eyes and took a deep, ragged breath, "I-I just want to know why - why did this have to happen?"

"Oh Kitty." He gently took her hands. "Sometimes we lose people that we care about. I'm so sorry. Marshal Matt Dillon was a great man."

She looked up sharply, "Matt's alive, I want to know why you wanted him dead."

He dropped her hands, and for the first time since she'd know him, George Parker looked surprised. He covered it quickly with a smile. "Well – I – I don't know what you're talking about. Why would you or anyone think that I would want the marshal dead. It's preposterous."

Kitty raised an eyebrow, bluffing was nothing new to her. "You thought Matt was asleep when you poisoned his water. He wasn't. He was wide away and saw you empty a bottle of arsenic into the pitcher, and put the empty bottle in Jeremiah's pocket. Matt described you perfectly, right down to the clothes you were wearing."

"You're lying."

"Nope – As soon as Doc and I entered the room, Matt told us to dump that water out. Why else wouldn't I have given him a drink from that pitcher?"

Parker shook his head in disbelief. "No – if you're telling the truth, I would have been arrested."

"Oh, you will be. I just wanted to get here first to ask why?"

"Damn it." Parker shoved Kitty hard, and ran out of the room. She fell backwards against the wall. Parker sped down the stairs and out of the hotel trying to think rationally. He had to get out of Dodge and find a hiding place where he could think. He'd come up with a clever defense, or maybe just head to San Francisco. First he needed a horse so he could get away from town. He took off down the street looking for a horse to steal.

After she hit the wall, it took Kitty a few seconds to regain her footing, but she was determined to catch Parker. She hurried down the steps and out of the hotel, to the middle of the street. She looked both ways, spotted Parker and took off after him. After running a few short and stumbling steps, she kicked off her high heel shoes in frustration, and picked up speed running in her stocking feet.

George Parker spotted a horse tied to a rail, and lengthened his strides. Kitty had her eyes on him and picked up speed. Parker got to the horse and quickly untied the reins from the rail. Kitty was gaining ground. Parker put a foot in a stirrup. Kitty launched herself into the air and landed on his back. He tried to elbow her away but she clung hard and yanked at him with every ounce of strength. They tumbled backwards onto the ground – Kitty on her back – George on top of her staring at the sky. He quickly scrambled to his feet and got one foot in the stirrup again. She grabbed his other leg and pulled.

Across the street, Jeremiah stepped out of the General Store carrying a big bag of groceries and a brand new broom. He saw Kitty furiously pulling on Parker's leg. He hadn't seen a good woman that mad, since his Mabel whacked a man with a frying pan to stop him from hitting his wife. Jeremiah dropped the groceries and hurried over swinging the broom. With Kitty pulling at Parker's leg, Jeremiah started whacking his back with the broomstick. Parker put a hand up, "Stop, stop." He was about to give up when he saw a pistol poking out of horse's saddlebag. He grabbed it and pulled the trigger, firing a warning shot into the ground. Kitty and Jeremiah jumped back in surprise. Brandishing the gun, Parker got on the horse. "I should just kill you two."

"That thar ain't a very good idea." Parker turned to the voice. It was Festo – or whatever his name was, holding a rifle. Parker aimed at the deputy. It was a stupid move. Festus fired. Parker fell from the horse with blood pouring from his chest. Kitty hurried to kneel beside him. He was loosing blood fast. "George, why? I still don't understand."

"I wanted you."

"You don't love me. I know what love looks like, in a man's eyes."

"I didn't say love. I wanted you, and I always get what I want." Parker closed his eyes for the last time.

Kitty lifted an eyebrow, "This time, you got what you deserved." She stood and brushed the dirt from her skirt, suddenly aware that she was a mess and shoeless. She lifted her chin, as if everything was normal. "Festus, you came out of nowhere. How did you know?"

"Well, Miss Kitty, Matthew was worried 'bout ya. He told ole Doc ta git me lookin fur ya. Said if Doc didn't move quick, he'd cum lookin' hisself, even if he had ta crawl."

Kitty smiled, "That sounds like Matt."

"Yep, that's Matthew fur ya." Festus smiled with pride. "Well, I'll go about seein' ta Parker's body. Ya know Miss Kitty, fur a man so cocky an all, he jus weren't real smart."

"Um, Miss Kitty, I believe these are yours." Old Jeremiah Thomas was awkwardly holding a pair of delicate high-heeled shoes out in front of him.

"Thank you Jeremiah." She set the shoes on the ground and quickly stepped into them. "You know, sometimes a lady's clothes can be a hindrance." She saw him blush slightly and smiled, "I'd better go see Matt and let him know what happened. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done." She lifted her face and kissed him on the cheek.

Jeremiah smiled thorough his long beard, "Ma'am, I gotta say one thing. I can see right clear, that you and the Marshal have a real deep itch for each other. I mean deep in the heart and soul. It's a rare and good thing, like me and my Mabel had. I'll tell you, when the good Lord decides to take me, I'll do my best to look out for both of you."

"Thank you Jeremiah. No one's ever said a nicer thing to me."

"Well, I'll finish buying what I need, load my wagon and head off. I hope I get to see you and Marshal Dillon again." He turned and went on his way. Kitty smiled and hurried to Doc's to see Matt.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

_AN: Thank you readers for sticking with this story, and a special thanks to those who took the time to comment. Your encouragement is appreciated and your comments help me find ways to improve my writing. Also, I LOVE reading your alternative plot ideas. What a imaginative group of readers we have here. Thank you._

And now the finale.

10 Days Later

Kitty stood before the full length mirror in her room and turned from side to side. The blue, satin negligee Matt had given her for her birthday fit perfectly, and made her feel beautiful. She sat down at her vanity and unpinned her hair. It had been such a quiet night that she, and the other saloon owners, had closed up early. She didn't mind the loss of income. It was Matt's first full day back on the job, and she was glad it wasn't ending with rowdy cowboys or worse. She brushed her hair until it hung softly around her shoulders and rose to fill 2 snifters with brandy, the good stuff. As she set the bottle down, she heard approaching footsteps that were familiar yet slightly off. Only someone who knew Matt Dillon as well as she did, would note his slightly shortened stride. That wound was still achy. She opened the door before he knocked, "Come in Cowboy." He saw she was wearing the blue negligee and smiled as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Kitty, it's nice to see that it fits so well, You know, shopping for women's garments is not something I have a lot of practice with." He looked at her appreciatively. Kitty giggled, "You do just fine, Cowboy, better than fine. Come sit and have some brandy."

He sat on the settee and took the offered glass. She settled onto his lap and nestled in, careful not to press against his wound. "Matt, I keep thinking about George Parker."

"And something is still bothering you. Go ahead.""

She took a breath, "Do you think I led him on, maybe just a little bit, and that's why he became obsessed with me. Some of the whole mess may have been my fault."

"Absolutely not."

"Matt, I sat with him in the Long Branch, laughed at his stories, had drinks, not just once but days in a row. Sometimes twice a day if he wandered in."

"Kitty you drink with customers all the time, and sometime they seek out your company again and again. It's part of what you do, part of what saloon owners do. When men go too far, you put them in their place, but most of them understand the rules. They're there to forget their troubles, have some laughs or find a sympathetic year. Parker was delusional. You never saw him after hours or away from the Long Branch, not even lunch in Delmonico's."

"I guess you're right."

"Kitty, Parker was responsible for his actions, and his problems were of his own doing. A Boston detective stopped by my office today, looking for George Parker. He'd been after him for weeks. Parker was going to have to face multiple charges of tampering with evidence, bribing witnesses and threatening jurors. Seems the clever lawyer wasn't as clever as he thought."

Kitty shook her head. "He sure wasn't."

"On top of that, Parker got a letter today, that was turned over to me. It was from that gold mining company in San Francisco that he was supposed to go to work for. Seems he'd gotten an advance on his salary and they want it back. Anything Parker owned when he died, will go to them."

"Amazing isn't it Cowboy? He had so much going for him, and it all fell apart."

"Yep, and entirely his doing." Matt took a sip of brandy and set the glass down. They were quiet for a moment. She looked at him and saw something in his eyes that she didn't like. She set her glass down with a sigh. "All right Cowboy, out with it. You have something else to say, and you figure I won't like it."

"Well – I got a telegram today. I have to go to Topeka to testify at a trial, and have some meetings with the Kansas Attorney General. I'll be there at least 3 days, probably longer."

"I should have known. When do you have to leave?" She didn't bother to try to hide her disappointment.

"Now that depends." A half smile touched his lips.

"On what?" She was suddenly intrigued.

"Well, I could get the noon stage the day after tomorrow and go direct to Topeka or, if a certain redhead has time to come with me, and can pack quickly, we can take the early stage tomorrow. The one that takes the long route, and stops by Jeremiah's place."

"I'll start packing right now." She started to stand.

He put an arm around her to keep her on his lap. "Do you really have to pack right now? Aren't there other things you'd rather do?" He slowly ran his hand up and down her back. Her skin tingled. "Hmm, you're right Cowboy. Beside, if I don't get to packing, I can always buy clothes in Topeka. Matter of fact, I think I deserve a little shopping spree."

"I think so too, especially after the way you went after Parker. Festus said he never saw anything so fiercesomely, fierce.

"Redheads are known to be fiercesomely, fierce, under certain conditions. Under other conditions, a redhead like me can be – oh - another kind of fierce, with the right man that is. Cowboy, you just tell me where to start."

A grin spread across Matt's face. "Well in that case - come on Red, kiss me."

The End


End file.
